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Mary could not deny the fact; but, sick of idle altercation, she resolved to say nothing, but walk over to Rose Hall the following morning. And this she did, leaving a note for her cousin, apologizing for her flight. She was received with rapture by Mrs. Lennox. “Ah! my dear Mary,” said she, as she tenderly embraced her, “ you know not, you cannot conceive, what a blank your absence makes in my life When you open your eyes in the morning, it is to see the light of day, and the faces you love, and all is brightness around you. But, when I awake, it is still to darkness. My night knows no end. 'Tis only when I listen to your dear voice that I forget I am blind.” “I should not have staid so long from

you,” said Mary, “but I knew you had Colonel Lennox with you, and I could not

flatter myself you would have even a thought to bestow upon me.”

“My Charles is, indeed, everything that is kind and devoted to me. He walks with me, reads to me, talks to me, sits with me for hours, and bears with all my little weaknesses as a mother would with her sick child; but still there are a thousand little feminine attentions he cannot understand. I would not that he did. And then to have him always with me seems so selfish ; for, gentle and tender-hearted as he is, I know he bears the spirit of an eagle within him ; and the tame monotony of my life can ill accord with the nobler habits of his. Yet he says he is happy with me, and I try to make myself believe him.”

“Indeed,” said Mary, “I cannot doubt it. It is always a happiness to be with those we love, and whom we know love us, under any circumstances; and it is for that reason I love so much to come to my dear Mrs. Lennox,” caressing her as she spoke.

“Dearest Mary, who would not love you ? Oh! could I but see—could I but hope—” “You must hope every thing you desire,” said Mary, gaily, and little guessing the nature of her good friend's hopes; “I do nothing but hope.” And she tried to check a sigh, as she thought how some of her best hopes had been already blighted by the unkindness of those whose love she had vainly strove to win. Mrs. Lennox's hopes were already upon her lips, when the entrance of her son fortunately prevented their being for ever destroyed by a premature disclosure. He welcomed Mary with an appearance of the greatest pleasure, and looked so much happier and more animated than when she last saw him, that she was struck with the change, and began to think he might almost stand a comparison with his picture. “You find me still here, Miss Douglas,” said he, “although my mother gives me WOL. III. D

many hints to be gone, by insinuating what, indeed, cannot be doubted, how very ill I supply your place; but,” turning to his mother, “you are not likely to be rid of me for some time, as I have just received an additional leave of absence; but for that, I must have left you to-morrow.” “Dear Charles! you never told me so. How could you conceal it from me! how wretched I should have been had I dreamed of such a thing !” “That is the very reason for which I concealed it, and yet you reproach me. Had I told you there was a chance of my going, you would assuredly have set it down for a certainty, and so have been vexed for no purpose.” “But your remaining was a chance too,” said Mrs. Lennox, who could not all at once reconcile herself even to an escape from danger; “and think, had you been called away from me without any preparation!—Indeed, Charles, it was very imprudent.”


“My dearest mother, I meant it in kindness: I could not bear to give you a moment’s certain uneasiness for an uncertain evil. I really cannot discover either the use or the virtue of tormenting one’s self by anticipation. I should think it quite as rational to case myself in a suit of mail, by way of security to my person, as to keep my mind perpetually on the rack of anticipating evil. I perfectly agree with that philosopher who says, if we confine ourselves to general reflections on the evils of life, that can have no effect in preparing us for them ; and if we bring them home to us, that is the certain means of rendering ourselves miserable.”

“But they will come, Charles,” said his mother mournfully, “whether we bring them or not.”

“True, my dear mother; but when misfortune does come, it comes commissioned from a higher power, and it will ever find a well-regulated mind ready to receive it with

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